One afternoon our main character, Saul, had an unexpected and unexplained visitor. Over the coming weeks Saul was visited more times by this mystery man who claimed his name was also Saul. It has now been some time since these episodes and Saul has come to the conclusion that he will never get to the bottom of who the visitor was, where he came from or any of the other questions he has had.

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Chapter 4

It was Sunday, Saul had had a relaxing weekend so far, and after doing his usual Sunday chores he settled on the bed to catch up with the book he was reading, feet up, head comfortable on the pile of pillows. The book he was reading was the latest ‘Reacher’ tale by Lee Childs, a series of books which he loved. After a few minutes in the afternoon’s sunshine with the delicious warmth of its rays and that of his favourite cats bodies beside him and on his legs, he started to doze off, dropping the book beside him.

“Why?” he asked in a whisper as he slept lightly, and dreamt. “I….”, “Which way?” he muttered.

In the room a voice answered his questions.

Saul didn’t know what woke him but he rolled over and sat up staring into the mirror on the side wall. Sometimes waking from an afternoon’s siesta he lost all contact with his surroundings and it was a moment before he felt right in himself to get up.

“Time for a cuppa,” he said as he stood up, groaning a little as he did so. “Old man’s bones,” he added with a touch of humour.

A quick look around the room confirmed that the cats had all left him to sleep alone. “Deserted and abandoned,” he told the empty room.

He came through the bedroom door and as he entered the hallway he sniffed. He was sure he could smell a cologne or aftershave or perfume that he vaguely recognised. He dismissed it as being something that must have wafted in from the street on the slight breeze that had started to blow through the window, and onwards through the house.

In the kitchen he lifted the kettle to check it had water in it. Being sure it was full enough for at least one cup he turned the switch on to boil and turned towards the cupboard to get out his favourite brand of tea. Lifting the caddy from its place he had a sudden and fleeting memory of the dream he had, but couldn’t quite catch the whole thing. “Was I lost?” he asked of nobody.

Once he had his tea he went back to the living room to take up his favourite place on the small sofa. The biscuit tin was already on the coffee table for him to be able to select a dunker to accompany his brew. He leaned over the table to pick up the tin which was when he noticed that the notepad he always kept on the table here beside him was not blank. He was sure he hadn’t written himself any notes today. “What have I forgotten now?” he wondered aloud. He had a habit of making notes to himself so as not to forget things he would invariably forget.

Instead of lifting the tin he grabbed the pad and slipping on his glasses read the note. It wasn’t a note that he had made for himself, even though the handwriting was similar.

‘You were sleeping. I answered some of your questions but didn’t want to wake you. I’ll return again soon.’ It was simply signed ‘Saul’.